


Tenzo's Theory of Happiness

by Nameha



Category: Naruto
Genre: Atmospheric, Comfort, Dreams, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Gentleness, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Relationships, M/M, Melancholy, One Shot, Post-Fourth Shinobi War, Protective Hatake Kakashi, Surreal, Vague, gentle Hatake Kakashi, implied suicidal thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-21
Updated: 2019-08-21
Packaged: 2020-09-23 16:44:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20343358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nameha/pseuds/Nameha
Summary: Sometimes he dreams of a moon in the middle of the day.It was always summer, here, the sinking sun bathing the landscape gold. The sound of distant wind chimes floating on the breeze. The soft thrum of cicadas lulled him deeper into tranquility. There was no guilt here, no heartache, just peace.Yamato struggles with the guilt after the war and the belief he doesn't deserve to be happy.





	Tenzo's Theory of Happiness

**Author's Note:**

> This has been on my mind for awhile, just a nice oneshot of Kakashi and Yamato. I may edit the ending, i'm not sure yet

Sometimes he dreams of a moon in the middle of the day. 

It was always summer, here, the sinking sun bathing the landscape gold. The sound of distant wind chimes floating on the breeze. The soft thrum of cicadas lulled him deeper into tranquility. There was no guilt here, no heartache, just peace. 

The land of long shadows. 

He sank further against the tree, the moment could stretch on for eternity. The warmth of the late afternoon enveloping him. 

“Tenzo…” A voice came, echoing about, a gentle, melodic sound. 

“Tenzo.” It called to him again, drawing him to the surface of his slumber, pulling him higher, out of his body. 

His surroundings melting away to black. 

He stirred.   
—   
Yamato’s eyes fluttered open, squinting, adjusting to the light. It was like his dreams of a hazy summer afternoon. But instead of the moon, the sun burned it’s way past the horizon line, the sky swatches of vibrant orange and red. 

He cautiously turned his head, the fog of sleep slipping as his mind came back to the present. 

“Just like old times.” Kakashi chuckled, eyes turned up in delighted crescents. There had to be a soft smile under the mask. Yamato hummed his reply. 

“Old times?” 

“Mhm, back in ANBU. On mission breaks you would just doze off.” Kakashi shrugged.

“Sometimes I wondered if I pushed you too hard.” Kakashi gave another softer laugh, for the fondness of an era gone by. 

Kakashi and Yamato laid under a great tree, shaded from the worst of the afternoon sun. He must have been out for a couple hours. The dread and guilt started to creep in again, clouding his mind. Ah, yes, in this reality there was the burden of his guilt. The heavy weight, shackles, of his atrocities. 

“Maa, now that the war is over,” Kakashi continued, “We’re free to do what makes us happy.” Kakashi stared forward, eyes half mast as he watched a small bird pick at twigs, hands folded over his flak jacket. 

“Happy…?” Yamato hesitant, swallowing thickly his throat practically clicking.

Did he deserve to be happy? 

They were still pulling bodies out of the cold, dark, earth. Bodies that he put there and here he was, under the sun, alive. 

What about their happiness? 

“Does…this make…” Yamato licked his lips, mouth suddenly dry, the words catching in his throat and grinding against his teeth. 

“Does this make you happy?” Yamato could hear himself speak. Though he sounded far away like his voice not his own. His eyes remained unfocused, his surroundings a blur as he only saw the twisted bodies of the deceased. 

“Ah,” Kakashi breathed, caught off guard. He didn’t think he had to say it, he thought Yamato already knew. 

“I would say it does…I enjoy spending time with you.” Kakashi paused, as if weighing the consequences of his words. 

“Are you happy,” Another pause, “Like this?” 

Yamato could feel his windpipe constrict, he wanted to lie, the nausea crawling up his throat. 

Before the war this was all he had ever wanted, passing the down time with the man he admired and adored, maybe even loved. 

But he was empty now, filled up only with regret and grief, twisting like vines in his gut. But he knew, there would be no lying to him, what was the point, as soon as the words passed his lips, Kakashi would know. Tenzo focused intently, could he tell Kakashi the truth? He didn’t want anyone to know. He deserved this private hell, a small reparation for his crimes. 

When the world came back into focus, there was a hand outstretched to him. He looked up, Kakashi was leaning forward, down to him, one hand outstretched and the other hand planted against his thigh. Kakashi’s gaze was soft, it made a lump form in Yamato’s throat. 

“Come on, it’s getting late.” Yamato took his hand and Kakashi pulled him up. Yamato’s vision swam as he staggered back half a step. Kakashi’s hand came to the small of his back, pressed flat, to steady him. 

“Have you eaten yet?” 

Yamato couldn’t remember. It had to have been before they sparred or was it earlier then that, where had the day gone? 

“No matter.” Kakashi waved with one of his hands. 

“We’ll pick something up on the way. ” Kakashi, spoke softly, as he let his hand slide off Yamato’s back, brushing his fingers against Yamato’s as a sign to move. 

Yamato followed without a word, falling in step next to him.   
—  
Paper lanterns illuminated the shop fronts, washing over them in subdued light, casting shadows over the patrons. People, light, shadow blurred together for Yamato as he walked with Kakashi. 

They stopped, briefly, for Kakashi to order as Yamato stared into the street the lights, oscillating, dancing across his dark eyes. Kakashi handed Yamato the small wrapped bento, the weight foreign in his hands. 

They continued in the direction of Yamato’s apartment. 

“Isn’t yours the opposite way?” Yamato stopped at vacant intersection, Kakashi a few paces in front of him. 

Yamato vaguely recalled walking the distance. As if he was a passenger in his own body, being strung along through the winding streets. 

“Mhm, I figured I would walk you home, we have time.” Kakashi replied, nonchalantly, over his shoulder.   
—   
They arrived at Yamato’s door. The black, lonely, expanse of his apartment greeted them. Yamato took step inside and Kakashi waited in the doorway. 

“Did…you want to come in?” Yamato was pulling off his shoes, back facing Kakashi as he spoke, he turned to face him. 

Kakashi rubbed the back of his neck, averting his eyes, sheepishly. 

“No…no, I should get going, I have the ninken visiting at my place.” 

Yamato nodded, wearily, suddenly exhausted. 

“I see, goodnight, Kakashi.” Yamato went to close the door, only to have Kakashi catch it. Fingers gripping the door frame. 

“Wait!” 

Yamato raised an eyebrow, dropping his hands to his sides, he sighed. Kakashi cleared his throat. 

“Wait…Tenzo, Team 7 is meeting at the training fields tomorrow remember?” Kakashi gently reminded him, loosening his grip on the door, putting his hands in his pockets and leaning against the outside frame. 

“You’ll be there?”

Yamato slid his eyes to the side, he hadn’t remembered. He hadn’t seen much of his former team lately. It had slipped his mind. 

“I’ll be there.”   
—   
Sometimes he dreams of murky water, pale phantom shapes through thick glass and the scream of birds. 

His eyes fly open, heart pounding in his ears. 

“Man, you dozed off again. Sometimes I think I push you too hard.” 

Sometimes he dreams of a boy whose left eye and heart were bisected by grief.

“K-Kakashi…?” The pain drains away, the ache, replaced by fond recognition.

“Yeah?” The young ANBU clad Kakashi snorts with laughter. The wind picks up, tousling Kakashi’s hair as the sun behind him provides a blinding backdrop for the young Captain. 

The visage of salvation. 

Yamato’s, no, Tenzo’s eyes widen. 

“I-I…missed you.” Tenzo breathes softly, blinking away a film of tears. 

“Missed me?” Kakashi raises an eyebrow, arms folded, studying him, incredulously. 

“You’ve only been out for a couple hours. Did you have a bad dream or something?” 

“I…I don’t think it was…bad just…” Tenzo furrows his brow, trying to recall the distant fragments of another life. But they slip from his mind like fine grains of sand.   
“…Just really sad.” Tenzo stares forward dropping his eyes to his lap, hands trembling over his thighs. 

“Forget about it! Come on!” Kakashi pulls him up from against the hard plane of the tree, pulling him into the sun. Tenzo shields his eyes as the sun, no, the moon burns white hot over head. 

The vast landscape stretches out before them. The light floods his vision, everything, seeping into the earth and making the fields glow. Endless pastures of pale wheat bowing to the wind, the oppressive heat of the afternoon made his skin glisten. 

A lone scarecrow stands guard in the distance, wavering in the breeze. Crows of varying sizes finding purchase on ragged limbs, cawed ominously. 

The wide mouth of a river calls as leafs float, daintily, across the smooth surface, mingling with ceder dust. 

“We have time, so let’s get in.” Kakashi strips to his undershirt and kicks off his shoes. Tenzo hesitates, if only for a moment before he smiles wide, apprehension gone, and follows suit. Folding his gear, and Kakashi’s, neatly under the tree where he once slept. 

“Here, tie your hair up so it doesn’t get everywhere.” Kakashi produced a hair tie from his pouch. Handing it to Tenzo, before snatching it back. 

“Actually, hold on,” Kakashi holds it out of reach of the younger ANBU who could only level him with curiosity, dark eyes shining. 

“Turn around, let me do it.” 

Kakashi gripped Tenzo’s shoulders and spun him around, Tenzo nearly lost his footing as he stumbled, bumping into Kakashi’s chest. Kakashi held him to steady him. 

“I can braid it for you, just give me a second, okay?” Kakashi started separating Tenzo’s hair into three equal portions, gently weaving them over and under each other. 

“I didn’t know you could braid hair, senpai.” Tenzo commented as he stood still, unsure of what to do with his arms so he let them hang by his side, allowing Kakashi to work through his hair. 

Kakashi had his tongue out to the side, under his mask, in deep concentration. 

“There’s a lot of things I can do, something as simple as braiding hair is child's play.” Kakashi huffed. If he cheated by using his sharingan, well, Tenzo didn’t have to know that, now did he? 

Tenzo felt the overwhelming sensation of happiness bubbling up from deep inside, threatening to consume him entirely. He closed his eyes and hummed, gently rocking on the balls of his feet, while Kakashi finished up. 

The intense heat on their shoulders driving them forward. 

Kakashi, suddenly, grabs Tenzo’s hand. Their fingers lacing together tightly as Kakashi gives his hand a firm squeeze, Kakashi drags them into the water. 

The water is a balm against their overheated skin, ebbing and flowing around them, drawing them in deeper. Tenzo steps off the rock shelf, the water coming to his chest as he moves his arms lazily about, savoring the cool lapping against his back. Kakashi eyes him fondly, watching him from waist deep water. 

Before a playful glint flashes across his visible eye, he takes the opportunity to lunge at Tenzo, effectively dunking him. 

“Senpai!” Tenzo sputters when he reemerges, water running down his face in rivulets, braid thrown carelessly over his shoulder. Kakashi is laughing at him, doubled over at the waist, as he finds footing on unstable rocks of the river bed. 

Tenzo grins as he returns the favor, taking them both into the depths. 

It’s his turn to laugh now, loud and full, eyes closed as he burns the image of a soaking wet Kakashi into his memory. When he opens them Kakashi is gone. 

Tenzo spins around, wading through the water as he tries to catch a glimpse of his mischievous Captain. 

“Senpai…?” Tenzo calls out, tentatively, suddenly nervous. He feels his chest constrict with the prospect of abandonment.

The rustle of feathers, crows taking flight, draws his attention to the field. 

The scarecrow, sways in the wind alone. Tenzo is unnerved as he keeps his eyes trained on the scarecrow. An unsettling expression gracing the mask of the scarecrow, an ANBU mask, his mask. 

It turns just a fraction to face him.

Tenzo wants out of the water, wants to put more distance then the river can provide. Panic surging up through his spine like a great wave, he starts to make his way to the shore, frantically.

When a hand on his ankle, pulls him from his thoughts, pulls him under the water. Tenzo’s eyes widen in surprise, his nose and mouth fill with water as he’s pulled under.

He turns, expecting to see a monster, some eldritch abomination with too many eyes and teeth. Yet it’s Kakashi, holding his ankle, eyes turned up mockingly as if to say:

“Gotcha!” 

“You should have seen your face!”Kakashi laughs as they break the surface. 

Tenzo clenches his fists, he was really scared, his fear was palpable. Tenzo looks at the water like a petulant child, Kakashi still laughing at him, paying no attention when Tenzo’s hand rears up and hits the water with such force a wave is formed. 

Tenzo beams innocently as Kakashi sputters, hacking up water from the sudden strike. 

“Hey!”   
“Sorry, senpai, you should have seen your face!” Tenzo quips right before he’s hit with a wall of water. 

“You can’t use jutsu!”   
“Who says?” 

They start a splash war, that escalates to using harmless water jutsu to gain the upper hand. Tenzo had never laughed so hard in his life, his cheeks hurt. —   
Yamato wakes up laughing, he sits on the edge of his bed as the first sob wrecks his body. He inhales a shuddering breath as the happiness bleeds away, more tears come and he holds his face in his hands. 

The tremors of his heartache intensify. 

He tries to catch his breathe but they come out as convulsing gasps. His throat raw, he puts his hands on his thighs to steady himself. Face screwed up tightly, he puts his head between his knees. He just wants it to be over. He just wants to go to a place where it’s always summer. He wants to go without pain. 

These are dangerous thoughts, his rational brain pleads. 

He runs a hand over his face, he glances at the bed side clock. The glowing red numbers indicate it’s well after midnight but early enough to go back to sleep. He’s so tired, he lays down again pulling the covers up over his face.   
—   
Sometimes he dreams of a familial darkness. 

It’s cold here, the light can’t penetrate this far into the earth. The frigid air sending shudders through spine and making the tips of his fingers tingle, a numbness falling over his mind. 

Sometimes he dreams of being clad in a mask that erases his sense of self, of an emptiness that is all consuming. 

“This would not have happened, Kinoe!” Danzo’s voice comes from the recesses. 

“This would not have happened if you had stayed in ROOT!” 

Yamato, no, Tenzo, no, Kinoe puts his hands to his ears trying to shut out the maliciousness. 

His mind blurs with past and present identities, who was he really, what was he. 

The echoing clack of Danzo’s cane reverberates in the darkness, drawing closer. His visage materializes in front of Kinoe, just as he remembers, disgust etched into the hard lines of Danzo’s features. Kinoe swallows thickly, his knees weakening. 

“This would not have happened if you did not leave with Kakashi Hatake! Those people would still be alive!” Danzo spits at him, slamming his cane into the ground to punctuate his every word. 

“I could have protected you, if you stayed with me! You would never have had to be a prisoner of war!” 

Kinoe shakes his head, no, no he wouldn’t have been safe. They would have found him anywhere. It’s not Kakashi’s fault, it’s his fault, he was careless. 

“Kakashi Hatake did not even make a move to extract you from the enemy! He doesn’t care for you, Kinoe! He never did!” 

Kakashi did care, didn’t he? Kakashi had gripped him tightly, once a life time ago, and dragged him into the light, into the sun.

“Y-You’re wrong! He does care! He’s my friend! I lov-” 

“Shut up, Kinoe! Those people are dead because of you! You are a weapon and you were used as such, nothing more and nothing less!” 

“I-I’m not! I’m not just a weapon or a tool!” Kinoe pleads as pale, disfigured hands, break through the earth beneath him, seizing him by the ankles and dragging him deeper into earth. He tries to scream but the hands tangle in his hair, moving across torso to latch viciously onto his throat, choking out his cries.

“What will you do now, Kinoe, as a tool that is irreparably damaged?”

His vision blurs as he tries to claw his way out. The dirt, debris, gag him as he’s fully enveloped. Encased in a hard smooth surface, wood. He can hear them, banging against his cage, the shrieks and sobs for mercy. His head starts to throb as the faceless, mangled, bodies beat against the barrier. They bang and bang and bang…  
—   
The throbbing in Yamato’s head beats in time with the hard knocks on his door. 

He groggily opens his eyes, his world spins as he holds himself to the mattress, his knuckles white, bunched up in the fabric of his sheets. He pulls himself up right and out of the bed. He looks at the clock, it’s 6. He doesn’t have to be at the training fields until 10.

But whose at his door at this hour?

He sighs in annoyance, running his hands over his face. He scans the dim room for anything suitable to wear, most of his wardrobe thrown haphazardly on the floor. He grabs a pair of Jonin blacks, his stomach churns just to see the red, Uzumaki, symbol stitched to the back and sleeves. It blurs in red waves under his fingers. He doesn’t deserve to wear it. But he has no civilian attire, a shinobi is all he is. But he doesn’t even deserve that. 

A unwilling traitor to the leaf, though a traitor non the less. 

The knocks continue, near frantic as he makes his way across his apartment, bare feet against the cold hardwood flooring. Holding the side of his head with one hand as he throws open the door. 

The low light of dawn assaulting his senses, he can see the sun peeking just above the tree line. 

“What…?” Yamato bites out. 

Kakashi stops mid knock, lowering his hand swiftly. Pocketing the book, in his other hand, behind his back. Kakashi noted Tenzo’s disheveled appearance, hair messy and clothes twisted in his haste, faint circles under his eyes. Kakashi quickly masked the concern in his eye. 

“We missed you.” Yamato’s heart jumped to his throat, breathe stuttering at the words. Those words, so familiar, so far off. It made his chest ache and his hands clammy, his fingers tremble. 

“You…missed…me?” Yamato croaked, eyes darting across Kakashi’s face for an answer. 

“For training, it’s 6pm.” Kakashi remarked, glimpsing into the bare apartment. 

Curtains drawn shut over the windows, the bento from last night untouched on the counter and the once green plants, now, a sickly shade of grey overtook the small living room. 

Yamato’s eyes widen a fraction as his eyebrows knit together, a bead of sweat formed on his temple and rolled down.

Yamato inhaled sharply through his nose. He let them down, he let everyone down, again. 

“I-I…” Yamato began to panic, his chest started to rapidly rise and fall, more sweat accumulated on his brow.

“We’ll say you took a page out of my book. No need worry about it, hmm?.” Kakashi put his hand up, a familiar dismissive gesture, to put Yamato at ease. 

“They’re used to being kept waiting.” 

Yamato looked down at his sandals, he felt shame burning in his cheeks, his vision stilted. What was wrong with him? The world, time, seemed so out of focus. 

They days they run away.

“Maa, let’s take a walk.” Kakashi put a hand on Yamato’s shoulder, guiding him out of the house and closing the door behind him.  
—   
They ended up in a small green house on the outskirts of Konoha. 

A charming glass building that housed an array of plant species, vines that climbed the walls vying for the sunlight that filtered through the transparent panes. Yamato shied away, the vines warping into greedy hands.

Kakashi browsed through the selections and Yamato wandered around in a daze. Unfocused, he absentmindedly smoothed a leaf between his thumb and index finger. Looking at nothing in particular, feeling the soft texture on the delicate skin of his fingers. He felt it, physically, but at the same time he didn’t feel anything. 

He felt detached, out of his body. 

He didn’t register his name being called from the back of the shop. 

“Tenzo…?” Kakashi called again, voice laced with concern. 

“Oh…I’m here. Kakashi?” Yamato walked through the isles until he spotted the shock of white hair. 

“What do you think about this one?” Kakashi held up a small, potted, plant for Yamato to inspect. Yamato turned his tired eyes to the plant, attempting to focus on the task at hand, his concentration was all static. 

“It’s nice, senpai.” Yamato stated blandly, voice monotone. 

Kakashi frowned under his mask, eyebrows pulling together. Yamato could feel the shift in atmosphere and mentally berated himself for it, his stomach sank. 

“It would be hard to kill, even for you, senpai.” Yamato chuckled, a weak attempt at humor. Kakashi was notorious for being unable to keep plants alive. 

Kakashi visibly brightened. 

“Is that so?” Kakashi laughed. 

“Well I guess I’ll have to take it then. If I do manage to kill it, I’ll just have to convince you to help, now won’t I?” Kakashi teased as he bumped their shoulders together, playfully. Yamato completed the routine by sighing and rolling his eyes fondly. 

Kakashi payed for the plant and they continued to their walk, through the sprawling green that was Konoha. Yamato kept his head down, following closely to Kakashi’s side, trying to make himself smaller. He knew, logically, that no one would be able to recognize him and the part he played during the war. 

But his fear, the fear that they just might, keeps his eyes down cast and his shoulders ridged.   
—  
Kakashi studied Tenzo as they walked, the slumped curve of his shoulders, the burden of the world weighing on them. The circles under his eyes getting darker, the more time passed. Yamato had been acting distant, more detached, he hadn’t even been like this post ROOT. 

Kakashi was worried. 

He didn’t want to leave Tenzo alone, alone with his guilt. Alone for his misery to eat him alive. He had to do something, for all his prior failures, he couldn’t fail at this. 

He couldn’t fail Tenzo.   
—  
Kakashi totted the plant around like a child, Yamato had to laugh at the absurdly of the infamous copy-nin cooing over a plant in public, even if it was just for Yamato’s amusement. 

Kakashi walked Yamato home, again, that night, after paying for a meal for the two of them. The plant even had it’s own seat at the table. Yamato nearly choked on his udon when Kakashi attempted to feed it rice then gently reprimanded it when it wouldn’t eat it’s food. 

Yamato had felt some semblance of normality then. But it didn’t last as he was swallowed up by the vacancy of his apartment, standing alone in the dark.   
—   
Yamato was about to crawl in bed when a knock came at the door. 

He doubted it would be Kakashi, they had parted ways hours ago, though he had some hope. It was better then any alternatives. His stomach lurched when he realized it could be Naruto, Sakura or even Sai coming to check on him after he missed training. 

He didn’t want to face them, for some reason the thought of it made him sick. 

He decided to expand his senses to feel the chakra signatures outside the door. There were multiple, his heart thundered in his ears, they had to know he was in here. They weren’t moving, standing outside the door, just waiting for an answer. Too panicked to discern the chakra properly he actually thought of hiding. 

“Tenzo! It’s me! open the door!” Kakashi called from the other side. Yamato felt his heart beat slow to something like normal, he wiped the sweat from his brow and opened the door. Kakashi stood, along with all 8 of his ninken plus the potted plant, soaking wet. His hair, normally defying gravity, was plastered to his head as a puddle formed at his feet. Water ran down his face as if he had just gone swimming.

A pang of recognition shot through Yamato, Tenzo. He blinked in rapid succession to dissipate the image.

“Sen..pai?” Yamato’s eyes went from Kakashi, to Pakkun, who was being held in one hand, the plant, that was held in the other, and then to the rest of the dogs behind and beside Kakashi, their tails wagging furiously. 

“Maa, Tenzo…A pipe burst in the apartment above mine and flooded the building.” 

Yamato blinked owlishly.   
“So you…came here?”

Kakashi shrugged. 

“There was no where else for me to go. You don’t mind, do you?” Kakashi, and the dogs, gave Yamato their best puppy eyes. 

“No, of course not, I don’t mind. Come in, let me grab some towels…you were in the apartment when it happened?” Yamato left the door open as he flitted to the bathroom to fetch towels and extra blankets. 

“Mhm, it happened so suddenly. Completely caught me off guard.” Kakashi stepped in, the dogs in tow, they quickly made themselves at home. Pakkun ruffed in amusement and Kakashi glared at him when Yamato’s back was turned. 

“It could take several days, maybe even a couple of weeks for them to fix the damage.” Kakashi took the towel from Yamato and started to dry his hair, before throwing the towel on Pakkun. 

“I don’t mind, you can stay as long as you need to.” Yamato was kneeling, towel in hand, attempting to dry off one of the dogs who lined up. 

“Ah, I knew I could count on you. I always could.” 

Yamato smiled weakly at the compliment as he set up the couch. Clearing away the stray books he hadn’t bothered to touch in a month. He went into his room to grab a blanket and the extra pillow. He didn’t want to inconvenience Kakashi so he thought he would sleep on the couch and let Kakashi have the bed, it was only what a proper host would do. 

But when he came back, all the dogs had piled on top of the couch, leaving no room for him. 

“Um, senpai?” Yamato held the blankets in his arms, the pillow pressed against his cheek. 

“Mhmm, Tenzo, just leave them.” Kakashi shrugged as he took a step towards Yamato. 

“I don’t want to kick you out of your own bed anyways. There’s room for the two of us.” Kakashi took the blanket and pillow out of his arms and headed to the bedroom. 

He exhaled, slowly. He didn’t realize had had been holding his breathe until his lungs ached.

Yamato stared at the couch for a moment, alone in the living room save for the breathing of the dogs. His brain trying to register what was going on around him, trying to capture and analysis the moment as it was. 

The low light filtering in, deep blue hues of the apartment stretching across the walls and the flood of the off color yellow from the street lights, colored the apartment in a shade of surrealism. The dogs piled haphazardly on his couch seemed to belong to a fever dream instead of reality. 

He noticed he had forgotten to close a window, the balmy July air wafting in from the night bringing in the chirping of crickets and the far off cry of a loon. 

He swallowed, the feeling that something was “not quite right” invaded his senses. He traced the room for other anomalies. But the feeling radiated from deep inside. The apartment wasn’t tilted, wasn’t out of place, it was just him. 

The warm body next to him was a simple backdrop, much like the lamp on the bedside table or the clock next to that. He stared at the ceiling, hands folded over his chest. He should be elated but he was only worried. 

What if the dreams came again, what if he exposed the most vulnerable part of himself? What would he do then… His mind spun as time slowly passed him by. The steady breathing lulling him to peace. 

Dropping out of consciousness as soon as he closed his eyes.   
—   
Sometimes he dreams of a strange, cheerful, girl with bright eyes. 

“Tenzo!” She calls from ahead of him as they run through the winding maze of colossal trees. 

He pauses, coming to a stop. 

Marveling at the sight, they tower over him.

Branches like hands reaching skywards, drawing his eyes to the sight of the ever present moon, towards the stars of early afternoon. The insects buzz around him as the humid air ghosts over his face. Fire flies sail through the shade of the leafs, as the wind whispers. 

“Come on Tenzo! We’re going to be late!” She comes back for him, standing with her arms behind her back, her eyes shining. 

“Where are we going?” The uncertainty makes his voice waver.

“You’ll see! You don’t want to miss it!” She grabs his hand, pulling him to run with her, she smiles.

Her smile, it’s bright, contagious, he smiles too. 

The pair stumble upon a festival. Bright lanterns, of red and gold, dotted the vendor fronts, people of only shadow roam the crowded streets. They have no faces, as they wade through the throngs of spirits. She pulls him past the stalls, food stands and deeper into the woods. 

Sometimes he dreams of a strange clan, who lay dormant in the woods, dissipating into smoke like wayward spirits.

A large tree with a gaping mouth greets them, he feels the howl of the wind from deep inside, calling to him. Drawing him further into the jaws of the abyss. 

He stands, rooted to the spot. 

“Welcome home, Tenzo! We’re all here!” She grins while she pulls him closer. 

His body is limp in her grasp and he goes willingly, treading slowly, carefully. 

“Maa, Tenzo, you made it. I missed you.” A figure steps near the gnarled maw of the tree, a bright red eye glowing in the pale light. 

Tenzo follows automatically, near stumbling in his haste to greet salvation. 

He throws his arms out, heart pounding in his ears. He was so close, just a few more steps, a few more steps…. The scene elongates. Rapidly stretching out before him, as if the forest was shunting away, taking the great tree, his salvation with it. 

He was only a few steps away, now he can barely see them. The faster he runs the further and further he is away. His small strides can’t cover any ground.   
They’re calling after him, pleading with him to hurry, they’re waiting. 

They’re waiting for him, they’re waiting.  
—   
Yamato jolts awake in a cold sweat, residual heart beat in his ears. Without a single word, he feels his vision blur. His breathing comes out in muted gasps as he fists the sheets. He stiffens as he feels the mattress dip from a foreign weight. He slides his eyes over, carefully, he holds his breathe. 

The realization of not being alone is setting in, setting him at ease. Kakashi is still laying by his side, facing away. But he’s not alone in the dark. He’s still within reach. Yamato tentatively reaches out a hand, brushing his fingers over an exposed shoulder. His heart settles back in his chest. He tries to shift, pull the covers up, but the bed has more occupants now. 

Bull, the biggest of Kakashi’s ninken had decided to take up residence on Yamato’s right side, pinning the blankets under him. Biscuit, Uhei and shiba crowded their feet. 

“Go back to sleep, pup.” Pakkun gruffed, nearest Kakashi’s sleeping head. 

“It’ll be alright.” 

Yamato nodded distractedly, laying back down on his side. His face in Bulls soft fur. Kakashi cracks an eye open to look at Pakkun who nods in approval. 

Kakashi stays awake the rest of the night, feigning sleep, feigning ignorance.  
—   
The arrangement continues, Kakashi all but moving into Tenzo’s apartment. They spend their days together and Tenzo can’t find time to dwell on his heartache, there’s too much to fill his days with. 

“I’m going on a mission, it’s long term, a couple of weeks at most. I’ll be back by the end of summer.” 

“Ah, Okay, senpai.” Yamato can’t help but to feel the void in his chest slowly opening. Kakashi had been his life line to the outside word. It had been months since he left his apartment on his own, months since he saw team 7. 

“If it’s okay, I’m going to leave Bull here. He seems to have grown really fond of the daily routine. With all the down time lately, I don’t summon them for missions as much as I should and he’s not getting much exercise.” Kakashi mused. 

“I’ll take good care of him, senpai. You can count on me.” Yamato smiled, as he scratched behind Bulls ears, who wagged his tail lazily. 

“I always do.”  
—   
Fast and fading light hangs low. But the heat still lingers, clinging to him like a second skin. Suffocating his circulatory system with each inhale. Yamato wanders, wayward, around the lonely Uchiha district. 

The ghost, a shell, of it’s former self.

Dilapidated and worn, falling apart, just as he, on the inside. The foundation rotting out from under the seemingly stable buildings.

The irony was not lost on him.

Bull is tethered to Yamato, bound by a red leash, and trotting dutifully beside him. He hasn’t left Yamato’s side since Kakashi left for the mission. He hears voices from inside the gates, the open pillars, floating on the wind.

Maybe spirits, echos, of the past, no one comes here.

“You know I missed you…”

Except a lone soul that hasn’t come home in quite some time.

“Don’t say such bold things. I haven’t been gone long….”

Ah, the wayward soul has come home at last.

“Whether it’s a day or a year, I miss you the same.”  
“Stop…don’t say anymore…”  
“My feelings don’t change. They never have.”

Yamato wonders if Kakashi would feel the same, like in all the dreams he had. He wonders if anyone would miss him. 

He would miss them.

“Captain Yamato!”

The sound of feet hitting the dust draws Yamato from his thoughts, as Naruto runs towards him.

The lemon yellow light catches Naruto’s teeth in a smile. The burning orange backdrop catches Yamato’s throat in a vice.

“Ah….Naruto, hello.” Yamato doesn’t meet Naruto’s eyes, looking past him. It would be too much for Yamato, to look into those depths.

“I haven’t seen you around…” It’s not brash, demanding anger that Yamato had been dreading. It’s a softness that throws him off kilter.

“I’m sorry, I–”  
“You don’t need to apologize, I just missed you…ya know?”

Naruto puts his hands behind his head and turns on his heel, looking at the horizon.

“Take your time.” Naruto looks back at Yamato, just a tilt of the head.

“We’ll wait for you, okay?”

Naruto closes his eyes in a smile, a bright blinding display. It’s a gentle happiness, a simple reminder, a promise.

The humidity in his lungs gives way to a warmth blooming under the surface.  
—  
The wind chimes rattle softly in the breeze as Yamato tenderly waters the potted plant on his balcony, he smooths a leaf between his fingers, smiling at the sight. It’s grown so much since Kakashi has been gone, it’s about to bloom, he hopes Kakashi will be home in time to see it.

Kakashi left mid-July and it’s now late August.

He places the watering can on the railing, over looking the failing light of the sun. Washing the neighboring apartment complexes in sheets of pale gold, the light calls out to him, to somewhere he doesn’t know, somewhere soft he hopes. 

He drops his hands off the railing to head back into his apartment, calling Bull beside him. The dog happily obliges, padding softly. Yamato rubs behind his ears, still smiling. He had a reason to get up this past month, Bull needed to be walked and fed. Yamato had a mission from Kakashi to full fill. He would not let him down. He had let too many people down already, even he could accomplish something like this. 

No, that wasn’t the only reason, He realized, he was waiting. Waiting for Kakashi to come back. 

He had missed him.

Yamato had his back to the rail when he feels the swell of familiar chakra materialize behind him. Yamato turns, his eyes catching the light and they shine as he looks on Kakashi. Sitting on the rail with the backdrop of a dying blaze behind him. 

The brightness pierces through, a beacon of the moon. Lighting the steps down the path that he chose.

Yamato comes to him then, in small cautious steps, as if Kakashi would slip out of reach, dissipate like smoke or be gone with the waning sun. 

His hands shake as he slowly places them on the rail, steadying himself. Steadying himself against his revelations, his feelings.

“I’m glad to see you…I-I missed you.” Yamato finally breathes, staring up into the night. Moonlight cascading down upon him from the skies.

“I always miss you.” Kakashi places his hand over Yamato’s, over the railing. Dropping his feet to the balcony to stand behind Yamato, his chest pressed against Yamato’s back.

The soft whirl of the night life descends upon them, veiling them.

“Are you happy, like this, Tenzo?” Kakashi whispers, tentatively, against the nape of Yamato’s neck, dropping his forehead against Yamato’s hair. The conversation from a month ago seared into his mind, it makes him ache, he can’t let it go. 

Yamato stiffens, momentarily. The ache, the pain, it melts away. But it hasn’t been there for some time, he feels, lately. 

Yamato turns, his breathing stuttering for the barest moment. Yamato traces the lines of Kakashi’s mask, holding Kakashi’s cheeks in his hands like Kakashi held his heart in his.

His eyes are confident, no trace of the lingering emptiness that has haunted him for what felt like a life time.

“You..you..have always made me happy…”

In dreams and in waking life, but he doesn’t say as much. He knows it’s enough.

Kakashi closes his eyes, bringing his hands, his fingers curl around Yamato’s hands. He exhales, a relieved sigh, bringing their foreheads together and Yamato closes his eyes as well. 

Sometimes he dreams of a sun in the middle of the night.


End file.
